Negativity Falls
by Akumokagetsu
Summary: A somewhat darker take on Gravity Falls, for mature audiences only. Mabel is fearful that she and her brother are drifting apart when they are sent to live with their great uncle for the summer. Dipper begins seeing strange things cropping up all over the backwoods town, and they learn the hard way that some secrets simply are not meant to be uncovered...
1. Chapter 1

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 **Just as a forewarning to readers, this story explores the darker side to Gravity Falls. It's going to get pretty messed up as I'm not going to shy away from some sticky subjects, although I try to keep everyone as in character as possible. Read at your own risk.**

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Dipper sighed for the millionth time, arms crossed tightly over his chest as the bus trundled down the worn dirt road. The leafy trees had long since given way to evergreens and towering pines as they rolled down the highways and off the beaten path along worn dirt roads, and Dipper quietly noted the graffitied billboard announcing their arrival to Gravity Falls. The sky above was cloudy and gray, the storm clouds pregnant with the possibility of rain. His sixteen year old twin sat across from him, deep asleep with her chin bobbing up and down on her chest. Mabel wore a bright pink sweater with a star stitched onto the front. Dipper occasionally wondered why she worked so hard to knit her own sweaters. However, after as many years as she'd had practice, she had gotten surprisingly good at it. He could no longer tell the difference between the store bought clothes that their mother would pick out for her and the hand knitted sweaters, and he was slightly jealous of her skill (although he always declined her offers to make sweaters for him).

He glanced out the window again, watching the wind whip the tops of the pine trees back and forth like spiky fingers scraping the sky, struggling to pull the world down to them. Dipper resisted a shiver as he felt almost as if eyes were on him, pulling his brown hair down over his birthmark on his forehead. He simply resumed trying to read instead of focusing on his sleeping sister. It wasn't that she looked cute while she was sleeping, as he tried to reassure himself as he strained to keep his eyes on his book of world history. It took a great deal of effort not to stare as he forced his head down, a bead of sweat forming on his neck as he attempted to keep his attention on reading.

 _Stop looking at your sister's chest_ , a small voice in the back of his head said. _Nose to the grindstone, you sick fuck._

Dipper felt a tightness in his stomach as the bus finally pulled to a rolling stop in front of the dirty stained bench which served as the Gravity Falls bus stop. A withered man in a black suit stood in front of it with a deep frown etched onto his face, and he leaned on a cane with an eight ball attached to the top. Dipper gently shook Mabel awake by the shoulder, announcing their arrival.

"Are we finally there?" Mabel asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"I guess so," Dipper said uneasily, tucking his book back into his bag. He stared out at their great uncle whom they had never even met, and the old man stared back at him through the window. For a brief moment Dipper froze with the horrid feeling that the old man could actually see _through_ him, as if all of his thoughts were suddenly exposed before the wizened man. However, he quickly shook the thought away, helping Mabel with her bags as they nodded to the bus driver and exited the bus.

"Welcome to Gravity Falls," the old man said as if he'd practiced the phrase a hundred thousand times. "Get your shit in the car and let's get a move on, I've got tourists to scam."

"Hi!" Mabel held out a hand to him, dropping one of her bags in the process. "I'm Mabel! You must be our Grunkle Stan!"

"Yeah, sure thing, sweetheart," he shook her hand gingerly, as if it were glass and he might break it, and quickly stuck his hands back in his pockets. "And I guess your brother over there must be Dipstick."

Dipper watched the display awkwardly, watching Stan Pines closely. "You two hurry up and hop in the car already," he nodded to a nearby El Dorado that looked to be nearly as old as the driver.

"I call shotgun!" Mabel said cheerfully, picking up her bags.

"You can't," Grunkle Stan opened the back seat for her. "Shotgun's already there."

Much to Dipper's surprise, there literally was a shotgun sitting in the front of Stan's car. It even had a seat belt over it.

"Um... G-Grunkle Stan?" Dipper asked uneasily, staring at the weapon. "Is that even legal?"

"Is that even legal?" Stan flapped his hand about mockingly as they buckled up. "Christ, kid, don't be such a pansy."

Dipper had a sinking feeling that it was going to be a very, very long summer 'vacation'.

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Dipper stared at the bizarrely named 'Mystery Shack' before them, his heart feeling heavy as he looked up at it. The building itself seemed to be nearly falling apart. Even as they approached the large wooden 'S' from the sign fell off and landed to the ground with a _whoomph,_ and Dipper held back a groan. This whole place looked like a death trap, and he hadn't even set foot inside yet.

"Welcome to the Mystery Shack," Stan said in a rehearsed tone. "World famous tourist trap and slash or designated building with a built in crapper."

He led them in through the front, holding the door open with his cane, and Dipper and Mabel tentatively entered the gift shop. Mabel walked in with wide eyes, staring about at the merchandise and the vending machine, but Dipper's eyes were drawn elsewhere. Behind the counter with her boots propped up on the counter sat a positively gorgeous red headed girl who couldn't have been much older than him with the most vibrant emerald eyes he had ever seen, chugging heavily at a glass bottle with amber liquid inside as she flipped through a magazine. When she spotted Stan however, she choked and quickly hid the bottle behind the counter, dropping the magazine and sitting up straight with a practiced grin.

"What's up, Mister Pines?" the red head smiled at them, and Dipper felt his heart skip a beat when her gaze landed on him.

"Kids," Grunkle Stan held out his cane at the cashier. "This useless sack of meat is Wendy. Don't drink anything she gives you, it's probably got something in it. I can't go sending Shermie back alcoholics."

"Fair enough," Wendy grinned again with a slight shrug, and Dipper felt a light heat in his cheeks as she glanced at him. He had to force himself not to stare, looking instead about the gift shop.

"Hi there!" Mabel bounded right up and stuck out her hand. "I'm Mabel and I'm super adorable and lovable!"

"Sure you are," Wendy giggled as she shook her hand, her words slurring slightly. "My name's Wendy Corduroy – but I guess Mister Pines already got the introductions out of the way..."

"Get back to work," Grunkle Stand deadpanned at her, putting his hands on the shoulders of his niece and nephew and drawing them through the doorway.

"You got it Mister Pines," Wendy had the bottle back in her hand before he had even left the room. Grunkle Stan grumbled something incomprehensible as they passed a number of attractions, all of which looked as if they had been glued together from different stuffed animal parts. Mabel took it all in with wide eyed wonder, as she did everything, and Dipper was slightly jealous of her ability to overlook all of the blatantly obvious schemes at work. There was simply no such thing as a 'were-jackalope' or the disturbingly hairy underwear laden 'Sascrotch'. There was however a glass jar on one of the counters full of what he hoped were false eyeballs. It almost felt as if they were watching him as they passed, and he suppressed a shiver. It was all fake, obviously. At least, that was what he attempted to convince himself.

He led them through a decrepit kitchen with a single rickety wooden table pushed against one window. The paint was peeling from the walls to reveal the pine wood beneath it, and the old refrigerator was stained and dirty, almost looking as if it were about to fall apart. A buck toothed man with an olive green hat sat at the kitchen table as he tinkered with a screwdriver in one hand over a broken clock, his question mark tee shirt stained with oil.

"Hey there Mister Pines!" he perked up immediately upon seeing Stan.

"Kids," Stan didn't even bother acknowledging him. "This here is Soos. Call him Mister Ramirez."

"You can call me Soos," Soos shrugged with a small smile. "Everybody else does."

"Nobody calls you that Soos," Stan scowled, leading the kids away. "Get back to work."

"You got it, Mister Pines!" Soos called after him cheerfully. "We're practically best buds. Right, Mister Pines?"

"I'd burn this building down with all of you inside if the insurance paid well enough."

"That's just his way of saying 'we're cool dudes', no worries," Soos beamed at them.

Stan grumbled something unprofessional under his breath and led them up the crooked and decrepit stairs, leading them past a bedroom and all the way up to the attic. It was dusty and full of cobwebs and cardboard boxes, and the unnerving triangle shaped window with a circle in the center gave Dipper an odd sense of discomfort, though for what purpose he could not ascertain.

"You two will be staying up here," Stan motioned toward the dusty attic. "Make sure you two clean all the spiders out first."

"Are you serious?" Dipper frowned.

"As serious as a fake heart attack," Stan deadpanned, thrusting a broom into his hands. "And after you're done with that, get outside and start chopping firewood. Chop chop, Dipshit."

Dipper looked to Mabel, who was busy rummaging through a box of junk that had been carelessly tossed onto one of the beds. Stan left them to their own devices shortly afterwards, and Dipper fought to keep the sudden urge to smack him with the broom handle down.

"Dipper!" Mabel said eagerly as he began sweeping up a layer of dust, which made him sneeze. "Check out what I found!"

"Is that a grappling hook?" he said between sneezes.

"Oh my gosh I can't wait to test this out...!" Mabel was practically dancing from foot to foot. "Do you think Grunkle Stan will let me keep it?"

"Probably not," Dipper rubbed his nose miserably with the crook of his arm.

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel shouted down the stairs. "Can I have this grappling hook that I found in a box of creepy old people stuff?"

"Eh, why not?" they heard the muffled reply, and Mabel cheered.

Dipper peered about through the box that she had been rifling through, and gradually came across a worn, beaten old ball cap with a pine tree on the front. It was packed away for who knows how long, Grunkle Stan wouldn't miss a dusty old relic like this. Probably. He dusted it off and slipped it atop his head, forcibly grinning at Mabel to display his new find.

"See, Dipper?" Mabel beamed at him. "I told you this summer vacation was gonna be great!"

"If you say so, Mabel..." Dipper said with a slight frown. However, he couldn't keep the look on his face with her infectious cheerfulness, and gave a little smile to match her own. So long as he still had Mabel, perhaps the summer wouldn't be quite so bad.

Probably.

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In the hearts of men there lurk terrible things.

Great mysteries of time that will never be unwound, wicked webs weaved with malice, contempt and fear. Amongst all those terrible things, however, there was always a shining beacon in Dipper's life. Mabel was there for him when he had been bullied mercilessly throughout grade school, and she had even taken up karate in order to better protect him from the children that would make his life miserable. Mabel was there when their parents had been so busy fighting with each other that they had utterly forgotten that it was Dipper and Mabel's birthday, and she had given him a little cupcake with a candle in it. Mabel was there for him when he had been hunted down in seventh grade and had his arm broken by a much larger boy who had been intent on 'teaching him a lesson'. She had even signed his cast in a myriad of different styles as he slept, and digging up the old stained white cast had always made him smile.

And yet, for all the good that she brought, Mabel could be _horrifically_ annoying at times.

"Come _on,_ Dipper...!" Mabel whined, almost dragging him out of the bed. The morning sunlight pooled in through the window, seeming far too bright for his eyes to handle. "You said you'd come explore with me today!"

"I can't feel my arms," Dipper moaned into his pillow. Just from her proximity he could smell her enticing perfume, and he tried to ignore it. "Grunkle Stan had me chopping wood until sundown. And he's _probably_ going to make me do it again today."

"Well," Mabel mused aloud, letting go of him. "He can't do that if you're not actually _here._ "

Dipper frowned, slowly sitting up.

"... You make a fair analysis of the situation."

"Graci, graci," Mabel took a little curtsy. "Now, up and at 'em, tiger! Let's go explore!"

Dipper followed her down from the attic with a small mischievous grin, giving the room one last glance before he left. For the strangest reason, he could have sworn that there was something watching him through the window. But of course, that was impossible.

Probably.

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 **This ain't no place for no hero.**

 **This ain't no place for no better man.**

 **This ain't no place for no hero to call home.**

 **~ Short Change Hero,** ** _The Heavy_**

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A/N

Hey all, thanks for reading this new story, I really hope to have it turned into a novel length story soon. If I missed any grammatical errors or maybe you just liked it, please let me know in the comments, I really appreciate it. ^-^

See you in the next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

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Dipper and Mabel crept as quietly as they could down the creaky pine stairs, cringing with every gradual groan of the old wood. After what felt like hours of tenderly sneaking down the stairs, Mabel brushed the hair from her eyes and beamed at him, holding open the screen door. She wore one of her traditional sweaters, this one with a rainbow on it, whereas Dipper was wearing a pocketed blue jacket to ward off the chill. The morning sun was just barely peeking over the rim of the massive bowl in the mountains, and Dipper stood with his backpack slung over one shoulder. He had to keep his mouth from hanging open at the sight. Mabel was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, pulling him forward and down the wooden porch.

"Oh, please," Mabel took a little bow and ushered her brother forward with a slight English accent. "After you, lord Dippingsauce."

"After you, madame," he replied in the same accent, grinning.

"Oh but I must insist."

"Quite quite."

"Jovial."

"Indeed."

"Pish posh."

"Tish posh."

Dipper and Mabel stared at each other for a moment before stifling their snickers. They treaded carefully over the crunching pine needles, with Dipper following Mabel into the woods. He took in a deep breath of the crisp early morning air, unable to keep the small smile off of his face. Ever since he and Mabel had been children they had snuck out in the wee hours of the morning to go explore the woods nearby their house. At first it had been a daring escape from the constant aura of anxiety, tension and bickering that their parents provided, a temporary relief from the woes of the world as they meandered through the peaceful, wooded enclaves. Afterwards however they made it a regular ordeal, waking up just as the sun rose and walking through the woods, chattering amicably amongst themselves. Dipper enjoyed these times, regardless of how brief they had grown to be.

"It's right up here," Mabel pointed eagerly, picking up the pace a little with a smile. "It's the weird rock that I saw yesterday..."

"Why were you all the way out here in the woods by yourself, then?" Dipper asked as he struggled to hop over a log that Mabel nimbly leapt over.

"Exploring," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Duh."

"Grunkle Stan hasn't been keeping you busy with chores, then?" Dipper asked trying to mask his disdain, but the bitterness slipped off his tongue regardless. Mabel frowned, tucking her hands into her armpits.

"I'm sure that Grunkle Stan is-is a little _rough_ around the edges..." she began awkwardly as they walked.

"He's about as smooth as sandpaper," Dipper replied dryly.

"He's not _that_ bad," Mabel said without much conviction, continuing to lead the way, threading through the heavy pines. "I mean, sure, he's a little, um, _grumpy,_ but that doesn't mean that he's a bad guy."

"Have you _heard_ the way he talks to me?" Dipper scowled. "It's like spending all day with Dad."

Dipper cringed the moment that he said it; he saw, he could _feel_ the discomfort radiating from Mabel.

"... Sorry," he rubbed the back of his neck, tilting his hat over his eyes. "I know we promised not to bring up Mom and Dad on this 'vacation'." Dipper finished the last word with air quotes.

"Don't worry about it," Mabel gently placed a hand on his shoulder. His breath suddenly caught in his throat, and he had to force himself to keep his eyes downward. "You're gonna love this rock, trust me."

"I can hardly wait," Dipper said blankly. "I'm positively dripping with anticipation."

"Gross," Mabel grinned at him. "The less I know about your drippings, the better."

Dipper snorted at that and pushed her shoulder, laughing with her.

"What's so special about a rock, anyway?" Dipper asked after a few minutes of silent walking. "I mean, it's just a rock."

"You know those books you used to read?" Mabel answered.

"Which ones?"

"You know, the ones with all of the recorded weird stuff in the world."

"Good Christmas present, by the way," he thanked her quietly.

"Well," she met his gaze as she lifted a branch, revealing their destination. "I think this might belong in that book."

Dipper followed her closely into the enclosed area, and right away he could feel that something was wrong. Although the sun was shining brightly in the little glade and the knee high grass swayed gently in the breeze, he could still feel it, some primal part of his mind screaming at him to retreat. At first it was easy to ignore; it was a quiet voice, one that he was sure was irrational. However, as he followed Mabel beneath the low hanging branches he spotted the before mentioned 'rock', and suddenly a little piece of him didn't find the sudden dread all so irrational any longer. It wasn't so much a rock as it was a small boulder, shaped curiously like a trashcan sized fist comprised entirely of mossy sandstone. At first glance it almost seemed to be reaching up to the sky, plunging directly out of the earth as if the remnants of a stone giant slumbered beneath. He stared at it with wide eyes, and the little voice began to pipe up again as they approached. Mabel held her arms out to display it as if she were a game show host revealing the grand prize, even throwing in a little 'ta-dah'. Upon closer inspection, Dipper discovered that the stone fist in question appeared to have six fingers rather than five. He rubbed his chin with his palm, thinking to himself.

"So...?" Mabel asked as she walked around it. "Pretty cool find for my first foray into the freakin' forest, neh?"

"It's..." Dipper began, uncertain of what to say. "... Bizarre, to say the least. I've never seen anything like it before."

"I know, right?" Mabel peered around the corner, inspecting the knuckles. "Do you think somebody carved this?"

"They must have," Dipper checked the front, musing aloud. He prodded around and underneath the giant stone fingers, perhaps hoping to find a bird's nest or something equivalent. "I mean, there's no way that this thing was formed naturally. Someone must have gone through great lengths to create this... thing."

"How?"  
"I think the real question here is _why,_ " Dipper prodded one of the fingers, running his hand down the smooth sandstone. Surprisingly, something coarse and jagged met his touch when he tried to inspect the sixth digit. A small, crimson set of levers were hidden just beneath one of the fingers. Dipper almost motioned for Mabel, but saw that she was still busy on the opposite side. Quietly tilting his head to better peer at the levers, Dipper gave a couple of them experimental adjustments.

There was a soft grinding noise that Dipper almost missed; much to his amazement, a little rectangular hole had been carved into the stone fist with the hatch sliding open, housing a small, velvet red book. He pulled it out of the hole and dusted it, revealing what might have been genuine golden paint with a six fingered hand on the front. A large black letter three was scribbled neatly onto the front, and Dipper flipped open the pages in mild shock. His mind reeled even further into the book, wherein lay dozens, if not _hundreds_ of encoded messages, some even written in Egyptian hieroglyphs. It was filled to the brim with a humongous selection of fantastical creatures and sketched images of impossible flora. Dipper flipped to the front of the book's pages with in befuddlement. Seemingly the only message actually written in plain text was a warning at the beginning of the book.

 _If you are reading this message, then the worst has come to pass. I could not stop what was bound to ensue. You must take this book to the furthest corner of the Earth. It's knowledge must not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. Herein recorded is one of the only surviving log of the oddities inhabiting this area. This book is a door to a range of thought which can never be closed. Do what must be done, and get out of Gravity Falls as fast as you can. Get yourself and this book as far away from Gravity Falls as you possibly can, and then keep going. Whatever you do, you must not stay here. Take the book and run._

 _If you do not, then god have mercy on your soul._

 _Remember: TRUST NO ONE._

"What'cha got there?" Mabel poked her head over his shoulder. Dipper yelped and snapped the book shut, swiftly sticking it behind his back.

"Mabel!" he hissed. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"What are you doing with your arm behind your back like that?" Mabel bent her body a bit to try looking behind him. "You got some nerd thing?"

"Uh, it's-it's nothing," he lied quickly.

"Pffft. 'Uh, uh, it's nothing,'" snorted. "Are you seriously not going to show me?"

"It's... this book," he sheepishly pulled his hand out from behind him. "I found it inside the statue."

"Seriously? Who keeps a book inside of a rock?" Mabel leaned over his shoulder, flipping the pages. Dipper suddenly stopped breathing for a moment as Mabel inspected the strange book before taking a step back.

"... That's-" Dipper started.

"Pretty disgusting," Mabel turned away from what appeared to be a finely detailed image of a skeletal man with part of his brain hanging out of his skull. Dipper slowly closed the book and tucked it into his blue jacket. He decidedly refused to tell Mabel the bit in the front, and gradually drew her away from the six fingered fist and back toward the Mystery Shack. Some of the codes in the books were ones that Dipper was certain that he could decipher.

He had studying to do.

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